Catching Up
by Romantic Silence
Summary: Hermione was killed at the Department of Mysteries, devastating Harry. Eleven years later, a child named Hermione enters Hogwarts. Upon seeing Harry Potter, a Hogwarts professor, the memories made from her past life as Hermione Granger awakens within her.
1. Prologue: Harry, Falling

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: I want to participate in National Novel Writing Month. Yes, I am aware that it has to be something original if I want to submit it. Though I do have such a story in mind, I am more in the mood to continue on with my fanfiction hobby. I'm taking a break from current on-going story just for this month so I can focus on this one. I know I'm a few days too early, but I can't help it. It is in my head and it is forcing me to write! I hope you enjoy it!

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><p><strong>Catching Up<strong>

**by Romantic Silence**

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

**Harry, Falling**

I blasted away Dolohov, sending him backwards into the wall at the far end.

I scrambled to my feet and rushed to Hermione's prone form on the cold floor. To my side, Neville clumsily followed after me, clutching his broken nose with his hand while blood escaped from his nostrils. I dropped to my knees as soon as I had a closer inspection of Hermione. My hands moved on its own as I swept my finger across her face. She was pale and still; her body felt cool to the touch. It was then that I froze as I came to believe in the worst.

Hermione was dead.

She was dead and it was all my fault. Next to me, I felt Neville rest his hand atop my shoulder. I did not react but instead continued to stare at Hermione's lifeless body. My thoughts turned back to a couple of hours ago when Hermione and I argued over whether or not we should go to the Ministry. She had pointed out how obvious it was a trap. Of course I had to remain stubborn and as such, I remained steadfast in my want to naively charge into the Department of Mysteries. It _was_ a trap and now I'm paying for my negligence.

Neville moved to Hermione and began checking for a pulse. I stared at him as hope began to fill my body. He looked up and met my eyes. He gazed at me with sorrowful eyes, a solemn expression marring his usual jovial face. My heart sank and broke in two as I realized with mortification at the implications of his actions. In my desperation, I told myself that Neville was wrong. After all, he didn't have good grades at school. Not like Hermione. He was only good in Herbology. What would he know about knowing a person's vitals? Of course, this was all foolish. Hermione had taught everyone in the DA first-aid. As much as I tried to deny it, I knew what Neville told me next was true.

"Harry," Neville began, his voice ill, "Hermione's dead."

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><p>I crumbled to the ground, my suit dirtied from the patch of wet mud I landed on. A dull pain resonated on my cheek, but I cared little for it. I strained my ears to listen to the father of my best friend as the heavy rain poured relentlessly down. The Granger patriarch glared at me with hate-filled eyes as he continued to shout. From the corner of my eye, I observed Ron and Sirius moving to assist me, but soon stopped when I shot a meaningful glance at their direction.<p>

"...dead because of you! My only daughter died because...because..."

Whatever he was about to say next died in his throat. Instead of saying anything more, he stood there silent. Tears began to freely fall from his eyes. I watched Hermione's mother move to support him, placing a comforting hand around his. She avoided looking at me, and I had no doubt that she didn't blame me any less than her husband. Soothingly, she told her husband, "Come on Nathan. Let's go home."

"Okay, Charlotte." He answered her. Hermione's mother began leading him away, never stopping to say anything to me.

As the two of them left, Ron and Sirius arrived at my side and helped me up. The funeral had long since been over. The ceremony was quick. Hermione and her parents didn't have many relatives. Her grandparents had passed away and any other relatives had a strained relationship with her parents. The only people whom attended that weren't magical were the Grangers and a few of their close friends. As everyone else left, only I and the Grangers were left behind to stand in front of Hermione's grave; Ron and Sirius stood a few ways off in order to wait for me.

"You okay, Harry?" Sirius asked me, "Hurt anywhere?"

I was hurt all over. I had just witnessed my best friend be buried when not even a week ago, she had been vibrant with life. I could still recall her cheery laughter as we sat together by the fire in the common room. Although she was forceful when it came to accomplishing our schoolwork, Hermione still knew when to unwind and relax.

"I'm fine."

Ron clasped my shoulder, "It wasn't your fault, Harry." He told me quietly, smiling at me reassuringly. However, I knew better. His true feelings were plain to see. The once mischievous shine in his blue eyes had been dulled by the death of our best friend. His smile, though wide, never reached his eyes. Like myself, Ron was devastated as well. Despite that, he was better off than I am. He would not live with the fact that it was his decision that would cost the life of someone dear to him.

"C'mon, Harry. Let's go home." Sirius told me, wrapping one arm around my shoulders as he led me away from the grave.

I looked up at Sirius, his appearance no longer ragged or grim when I first came to meet him. His cheeks were far from being gaunt due to years of malnutrition within a cell. Instead, they were starting to fill with the youthful vigor that he had when he had been younger. He was alive and well. In fact, he had been in no danger that night. It wasn't until that he arrived at the Ministry along with the rest of the Order did it occur to me that he had been safe all along. I was a fool.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked me, having caught me staring at him.

I shook my head, "It's nothing."

Seeing his face reminded me what I lost.

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><p>"Dismissed."<p>

At Snape's dismissal, I, and the rest of the class, began packing our belongings and leaving the Potions room. Ron and Neville were talking excitedly about Defense against the Dark Arts. Sirius was teaching it now after all. It was good for the Headmaster that he allowed Sirius to teach DADA. More than anyone, I knew how awful it was to stay in a house that hardly felt welcoming. With his name cleared, Sirius was free to do whatever he wished.

"Potter," I heard Snape drawled from the far end of the room. I stopped my stride and turned to the professor that had nothing but contempt for me, "Stay behind."

Ron and Neville stopped in front of me, ready to assist. I shook my head, "You two go on ahead. Tell Sirius I'll be running late."

"C'mon, mate. It's Snape." Ron said, his eyes shifting to the Potions professor.

"No, I'll be fine."

"Whatever you say, Harry. C'mon Ron."

"But-"

"It's fine, Ron. I'll be alright." I reassured him, placating him with a small smile.

"Oh, alright. Let's go Neville."

With the two of them off, I edged closer towards Snape. He patiently stood at the front of the classroom. Oddly enough, I have yet to see a scowl appear on his face. Snape gestured to sit in the seat in front of him. I took my seat, a little suspicious yet curious as to what the bat wanted now. I was in no mood for one of his regular taunts. As I looked up from my seat, our eyes met. Curiously, I noticed empathy embedded in his cold, dark eyes.

"Potter, I understand that Granger is dead." He stated coolly.

My temper began to rise, I would not tolerate if the bastard said one word about Hermione. I narrowed my eyes, glaring intensely at the man in front of me, "What of it?"

"Calm down, Potter. I, too, know how it feels to lose the woman we love to our own incompetence."

I stopped and stared at him. Barring his confession, I focused on his words about love. Did I really love Hermione? Truthfully, I was attracted to her. Who wouldn't be? She was a person you could always count on. Despite all her flaws, she was someone I would always turn to for nearly everything. It was frustrating whenever the other boys in the dorm would pass up on Hermione when they talked about girls with whom they wanted to be with. Perhaps I did love her. I often recalled the times when it was just the two of us simply talking to one another about our aspirations and our feelings. There was no one else I felt so comfortable with. Not even Sirius or Ron came close to how I felt whenever I was with her.

"So what?" I asked Snape bitterly, "Is this supposed to make me feel better? You've always hated me _Snape_. What changed?"

"We're not so different, you and I." Snape continued, ignoring my tirade, "I don't expect you to forget what I have done to you, but even I am human. I have always been blind due to the fact you look so similar to the man I hate, but I realize now that you are nothing like the man I loathe." From his desk, he picked up a notebook and placed it on the surface in front of me, "Your mother was brilliant in her studies. She had an ambition that would make any Slytherin envious. In a way, she was similar to Granger. Both of them were kind and loved by most of her peers."

"What is this?" I asked, picking up the notebook and opening it. Inside, I noticed various notes regarding the instructions of potions I have never heard or read before.

"That is your mother's notebook." Snape answered, "Out of all her subjects, Potions and Charms were what she did best in. Inside are a variety of potions and charms that she had created herself. If she had ever wanted to, she could have easily taken the wizarding world by storm with her ideas."

In awe, I began to tentatively flip through the pages. My mother's handwriting was neat and orderly. The words transcribed onto the paper could easily be read. In fact, most of the notes she had written were simple and easy to understand. A thought crossed my mind and I asked Snape, "Why do you have this?"

"I..." He paused, "...was tasked by the Headmaster to give this to you. He believed it would be best if you were given this."

"Thank you." I breathed out suddenly, surprising myself.

"Do not thank me, Potter. I do not deserve it. You are free to leave. Do not forget what we have talked about."

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><p>I tore off the invisibility cloak from my form, revealing myself to my sworn enemy. Lord Voldemort's expression of utter shock brought an ounce of humor within me, but I quelled that in favor of focusing at the task at hand. Using the surprise to my advantage, I blasted the disarming charm from my wand. A bolt of lightning-like red energy emerged from the tip of my catalyst, striking at the Dark Lord that was only meters away. He raised his own wand to quickly bring up a shield, but it was far too late for the bastard. The disarming charm struck his hand, making it jerk upward from the force. His wand was sent flying, hurtling it towards myself. I raised my left hand and caught in mid-air, a feat that was made easy due to my well-trained seeker reflexes.<p>

"Potter!" Voldemort snarled at me, "I thought you dead!"

His striking, red eyes glared heavily down upon me with sheer malice. I could not blame him for his surprise, but I had thought that he would have been less pathetic to go about it. However, I was just as surprised to find out that I had lived through the killing curse yet again. I could still recall the taste of the afterlife and how I met my own mother and father again. They had encouraged me to live and to continue on with my life. I had wanted to tell them that I had nothing worth living for. I had wanted to tell them that the woman that I came to realize too late I was in love with was already dead. I had no one left. The rest of those I knew could move on, even Sirius, whom had fallen in love, had someone else. They could all do without me.

However, it would have been too selfish of me to give up then, not when I had a second chance. I have to get rid of a blight that plagued the world that I came to call home. Voldemort had to be defeated and no one save for myself could destroy him for good. His very existence ensured that the cycle of death and destruction made from bias would continue. Though his annihilation would not cease the problems that the magical world may have, it was the first step towards the right direction.

"How utterly foolish, Potter!" Voldemort cried out, a venomous sneer quivering on his lips, "I am immortal. I will come again as a wraith if you strike me down now."

I looked at him with contempt. His arrogance annoyed me to no end. Even as the Battle of Hogwarts raged around us with the forces of Light gaining the upper hand, Voldemort still believed himself to be infallible. His greatest follower, Bellatrix Lestrange, was laying dead upon the dirt leading up to the steps of the castle in an undignified manner. Dolohov, Rookwood, and Rosier had been easily quelled from the combined might of Sirius, Remus, and Tonks. Fenrir Greyback had been torn asunder from the trickery of the Weasley twins and their father. All of Voldemort's most powerful tools were either dead or have been defeated. Most important of all, his horcruxes, including the one within me, were destroyed.

"Your incessant prattling is your downfall!" I insulted him, "Your horcruxes are gone and your followers have been defeated. Your reign ends here."

An insidious smirk appeared on his snake-like visage, "You are nothing more than a blind sycophant of Dumbledore's teachings. Even if I were to lose here, I would still live, it is that very philosophy that Dumbledore practices that will allow me to thrive. Do your wo-"

"_Avada Kedavra._"

I summoned all of the hatred that I had; the darkness that always threatened to consume my very soul if I were to ever tap into its power. For this one day, I would allow it to take control of me and destroy my nemesis. I used the hatred I had for him, for killing my parents. I used the hatred for my relatives, for shunning me and making me live in squalor. I used the hatred I had for Dumbledore, for playing me like a fool and leading me like a lamb to slaughter. But, most of all, I used the hatred I had for fate, for killing my best friend, for forcing me to become a killer, and for using me for its own sick ends.

A sickening crack reverberated from my wand. A torrent of energy spilled from the end of it, oozing a plasma-like form of the malice I had and endured. It shot out from my wand like a bolt of lightning, its color was as green as my eyes. It weaved through the air, cutting through it like butter. The curse collided with the Dark Lord's chest causing the entirety of the spell to completely overwhelm him. The energy traveled throughout his entire form like a wave being created from a ripple in the water. His body shuddered forcefully until the last vestige of the curse disappeared. My enemy, the _thing_ that had caused me endless suffering since I was a child fell to the floor.

Tom Riddle was dead.

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><p>"I'm glad you answered my letter, Harry." Dumbledore greeted me as I entered his office. He gestured for me to sit in the chair in front of his desk which I obliged graciously. A warm smile formed at his lips as he settled onto his own seat, "How have you been? Last I heard of you, you were traveling throughout Europe. The Weasleys have mentioned that you hardly answered their letters."<p>

"It can't be helped." I answered his silent question, "I don't stay in one place for too long so it's hard for me to get their letters in time. Although, I just sent Hedwig a letter to them a few days ago saying I'll be staying in Britain indefinitely this time."

A look of surprise appeared on Dumbledore's grandfatherly features, "I see. I take it that you are accepting my proposal, Harry?"

I sported a boyish grin, "That I am, Headmaster. My travels to North America and through Europe allowed me to acquire the knowledge needed to be qualified for the position. It would be good to put what I learned to good use."

"Indeed, it would certainly help I and the students of Hogwarts with your appointment as the new Potions professor. Never would I have wagered you would choose that profession when you have been younger."

"I would never have thought so myself. But, people change. I'm different than how I had been when I was in Hogwarts, Headmaster. Surely you weren't always the wise, old Headmaster as you were when you had been a student here correct?"

Dumbledore chuckled, "All too true, Harry. Well, then can I assume that you would like to start this coming school year?"

"Yes, but I do have one request."

"What is that? I will accommodate you as much as I can."

My lips curled into a sly smile, "I would also like to have the resources available to conduct my own research. Will that be acceptable?"

"By all means! I will ensure that your request is granted."

Though I may not have forgiven Dumbledore for his part in my life, it would do no good to be consumed by the grudge I held. At worst, I was merely civil with the Headmaster. He did not need to know how much I loathed him for enacting the plan that would have had me killed.

We soon parted and I descended down the spiral staircase that led to his office. As I walked through the empty halls of Hogwarts, my mind reeled back to the days where all was well. Around me, the ghostly images of students rushing to their next classes surrounded me. As I looked to my left, I saw Hermione sporting her knowing smile as she held onto my hand, urging me to hurry. To my right, Ron laughed alongside the two of us, more amused than anything that we were running late. Then once I blinked again, the memory faded. Ron had grown up, becoming a responsible young man with a family of his own that he was soon making. Hermione was still gone, buried in a cemetery far away from where I stood. We can never go back to those days where everything had been perfect.

I sighed and continued walking, my steps echoing in the barren corridor.

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><p>"<em>An auror? Is that really what you want to be?" Hermione asked me incredulously as she settled onto the common room sofa. She scooted towards me, playfully setting her head upon my lap. We were both tired from our interview with McGonagall concerning our career paths; an event that had become more of a displeasure with Umbridge sitting in to "observe".<em>

_Grinning at Hermione's mischievous action, I took a strand of her bangs and twirled it lightly, "What's so bad about being an auror, Hermione?"_

"_For one, you're off chasing dark wizards and witches. You know how dangerous it is to have that as your chosen profession." Hermione stated plainly, closing her eyes as she enjoyed my playful touches, "Besides, a hero you may be, I think you are far more suited for a different role."_

"_Oh?" I asked her, curious, "Everyone says that I would be perfect for an auror. You know I'm a natural in DADA. Yet you, of all people, think I'm far more suited for a different profession? I find that highly impossible, Hermione."_

"_Honestly, Harry. Just don't be an auror just because everyone says you're perfect for it. You're much too gentle for that."_

"_Me? Gentle? You shouldn't be telling a bloke that. I am handsome, rugged, and full of bravado and danger!" I stated proudly, sticking out my chest._

_Hermione giggled at my gesture, poking her finger onto my chest which caused it to deflate, "You're full of hot air is what it is. But, Harry, I think you would make a wonderful teacher. You're very patient and kind when it comes to helping others. I think if you're a professor at Hogwarts, you would be everyone's favorite! Maybe you should become a Potions master first and kick Professor Snape from his job."_

"_That wouldn't be too bad. I would be the Hero of Hogwarts if I managed to replace Snape from his position. What about you though? I heard you told Professor McGonagall you want to work at the Ministry."_

"_Well, that is one option. I actually don't know what I want to do. I want to work at the Ministry, but at the same time, I also want to be a healer, or maybe a professor here in Hogwarts, or perhaps even an auror myself. There's just so many possibilities out there that it's hard to narrow down what I really want."_

"_Knowing you, Hermione, you can be anything you want to be." I told her honestly. In truth, I could see Hermione doing every single one of those career choices and see her succeed in all of them, "Of course, if you somehow manage to become the Minister of Magic, would you still have time to be with your dear friend, Harry?"_

"_Of course!" Hermione quickly answered, "Whatever happens in the future, we'll always be together in some way or another."_

"_Good. I don't know what I would do without you, Hermione..."_

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><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: The prologue will only be in Harry's perspective only. The rest of the story will be in Third-Person under Hermione's perspective. I wanted to write a prologue that would be a little different from the rest of the story and thus, the point of view shifted to Harry and how he dealt with the events that arose after Hermione's death in the Department of Mysteries. I always wanted to write this story, but prior commitments of my other stories prevented me from doing so. Now that I have been given the chance, I have to admit I'm pretty excited. Anyway, each chapter after the prologue will take place within one year in Hogwarts. Hopefully, I will be able to finish the story by the end of November, but if it doesn't, then oh well! Thanks for taking the time to read this story!


	2. Chapter I: I'm Back

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter.

**Foreword**: I'm a little surprised with the reaction I have received in regards to this story. I had thought that the age difference and the fact that this new Hermione is a slightly different girl would put off several readers from continuing. Needless to say, I'm overjoyed that so many decided to continue reading after that prologue. Hopefully, I made everyone's expectations with the following chapter.

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><p><strong>Chapter I<strong>

**I'm Back  
><strong>

Hogwarts Castle was bustling with activity as the contingent of First Years followed after the stern-looking Deputy Headmistress; the young new students had already began grouping themselves with those they had sat next to on the Hogwarts Express. Each and every single one of them were eagerly chattering over the mystique that the magical school held as many – especially the muggle-borns – had never seen such fantastical displays of magic in all of their short lives. Even for those that were accustomed to nature of magic were in awe as portraits hailed them from their frames with welcoming greetings.

Hermione Hawthorne was one of very few new students whom had taken in the excitement in stride. While the others busily talked over their exposure to the grand experience of stepping into the castle for the first time, Hermione remained quiet and continued to watch with glee as something new entered her line of vision. Upon first glance, Hermione looked entirely like the kind of child too bashful to say a word. She was a mousey little girl with short, messy hair that looked entirely too wild to maintain properly. Her hair sported various shades of brown – from light to dark – and its bangs hung messily over the top half of her eyes. Resting loosely on the bridge of her nose were her dark, rectangular spectacles. The frame was large and too big for a girl her age. The glare from the lighting of the esteemed halls of the premier magical school in Britain was just enough to cover the brown eyes that she had underneath her broad eyewear.

Perhaps it had something to do with her upbringing, but Hermione hardly cared much for her appearance. She had not always looked the way she did. Several days before, Hermione had long hair that cascaded brilliantly down to her waist. Unfortunately, her younger brother had accidentally placed gum on her hair and she had decided to cut her hair herself. The glasses she was currently wearing had belonged to her grandfather's and she had taken to wearing it after she had misplaced her contacts the day before. Considering that she had the same prescription as her grandfather, it was only practical that she used his glasses. Nevertheless, her entire appearance at the present could have someone easily misconstrue Hermione as a male if it were not for the fact that she was wearing a skirt that belonged to the Hogwarts uniform female ensemble.

Funnily enough, it was entirely that misunderstanding that had led to her meeting her first two friends. In front of her standing side by side was her new friends, Dorian Drakul and Lianne Hayle. Their introduction into Hermione's life had been entirely humorous and just remembering it brought a smile to her face.

"Excuse me, do you mind if we sit here?" Dorian had asked her when he had opened the door to her compartment. When Hermione had first seen him, she was ecstatic that a _girl_ had arrived. His smooth, pallid skin, aristocratic, good looks, and straight, long hair that stopped at the base of his neck had entirely given her the impression of a little girl.

"Of course." Hermione had said then. "Feel free."

"Great!" Dorian had shouted and then turned around to face another girl, Lianne. She was extraordinarily pretty. Her eyes were the iciest of blues and her hair was a silvery blond that fell down to her waist. She carried with her an aura of utter grace and elegance. "This boy decided to let us sit with him!"

"Dorian, I don't think that's a boy." She had replied, her tone even.

"You're a girl?" Dorian had asked with shock.

"You're a boy?" Hermione had equally replied back.

After that embarrassing first exchange, the three of them sat together for the remainder of the journey to Hogwarts.

"...Hermione?" Dorian's voice pierced through her thoughts.

Hermione, brought out of her reminiscing, stared blankly at Dorian's and Lianne's curious faces, his steel grey eyes and her icy blue ones gazing at her patiently. She blanched, "Oh, I'm sorry, Dorian. I wasn't paying attention."

Dorian pouted, a little disheartened, but repeated himself, "I asked what House you think you would be sorted into, Hermione. I'm not entirely too sure where I would go, I'm the first in my family to attend Hogwarts. My older brother and my father went to Durmstrang and my mother attended school in America."

"And I said that I wasn't sure." Lianne interjected. "My father was a Gryffindor and my mother was a Slytherin. Both of them want me to go their House."

"How about Hufflepuff, Lianne?" Dorian offered.

Lianne shuddered and sneered, "Heavens no. Anything but that."

As the two childhood friends bickered over the merits of being in Hufflepuff, Hermione took the time to contemplate. Although she had read – thank goodness for _Hogwarts, a History_ – about the Houses, she wasn't exactly sure herself. Unlike Dorian and Lianne, her parents – as well as all her ancestors – didn't have an ounce of magic in them to be privileged enough to have ever attended Hogwarts. With that in mind, Hermione was not too sure what House she would be placed in. She didn't even know which House she wanted to be in to begin with.

"To be honest," Hermione began answering. "I'm not exactly sure. I don't really care so long as I'm in a House with one of you two. Wouldn't it be nice to be sorted into a House with your friends?"

Dorian and Lianne exchanged a brief look before smiling at Hermione. They both nodded in agreement. The three of them chatted some more as they hurriedly followed the brisk pace Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress, was moving at. It was not long before all of them arrived at an empty chamber that was off the Great Hall. The students began crowding in, peering about cautiously as they grew nervous.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly."

With that said, she left the chamber.

Next to Hermione, Dorian gulped. Among the students, the only two that remained relatively calm and collected were Lianne and Hermione. The two of them shared a patient expression as they glanced around the chamber at the rest of the students. One boy in particular, nearest to the wall, was boasting that Gryffindor would be where he would be sorted. The kids that were near him listened to him, more concerned with forgetting their own nerves rather than actually taking a word of what he said.

"So, why aren't you nervous, Hermione?" Lianne asked softly, "I thought you, of all people, would be more frantic about this, being a muggle-born and all."

Hermione frowned at the use of being called a 'muggle-born'. While it was not particularly insulting and was only meant to be a classification more than anything, it felt derogatory when she was referred as being one. Ignoring that, Hermione replied, "I'm not exactly sure myself. I just feel like I've been through this before. I really can't explain it."

Lianne simply shrugged and that was the end of the conversation. However, Hermione still continued to ponder over her feelings. She could not explain it, but Hermione never felt more peculiar in all her life. Ever since she had taken her first steps into Hogwarts, Hermione felt as if she was reliving a memory she remembered not having. With every step she took, more and more she saw the image of beautiful, young girl moving hastily along the corridor alongside a boy who had the warmest smile. They were only flashes, but the entirety of the vision felt so vivid. It puzzled her to no end.

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned, "Now, form a line and follow me."

The Sorting Ceremony had begun.

* * *

><p>For all of its grandeur, from the flickering, candle lights floating high above them to the bewitched night sky that made up the Great Hall's ceilings, Hermione could not bring herself to be as excited or in absolute admiration like the other First Years. She acknowledged the beauty of the impeccable presentation shown to them and the welcoming feel it exuded, but Hermione felt as if she had been through this several times before. As she pondered over this, the peculiar Sorting Hat had finished its song and the Deputy Headmistress was already calling in individual First Years' names to be sorted.<p>

"Drakul, Dorian!" Professor McGonagall shouted, Hermione's stream of thoughts broken as she heard her new friend's name.

Dorian jumped excitedly as his name was called. Before rushing off towards the stool, he briefly turned to Hermione and Lianne, "I hope we get into the same House!"

He quickly sauntered and sat the stool. Professor McGonagall placed the withered hat atop of his head. After several seconds, the Sorting Hat bellowed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Polite applause rang throughout the Great Hall from all four House tables and the Head table. Hermione noticed that the Slytherin table in particular were more energetic in their cheers; they were actually whooping with excitement as another student was placed into their ranks. As she watched Dorian took a seat at the table, sitting close to the other First Years that had been sorted there previously.

"Unexpected." Lianne said next to Hermione. "I had pegged Dorian to be a Hufflepuff. He is far too nice for his own good sometimes."

Hermione stared at the blond girl curiously. She remembered being told that the two of them had been close friends since they were toddlers. Hermione had to laugh at how polar opposites the two of them were. Whereas Dorian was sunny and a bit timid, Lianne was able to silence anyone with an icy gaze and was quick to make the other party timid instead. Their dynamic was interesting to say the least.

Hermione wished she had close friends she had known since childhood. Her family moved often when she had been younger, causing many of her friendships to be short lived. Her older and younger brothers were too far from her age to actually want to do much with her and her father was far too busy trying to make end's meet to cater to her whims. These slew of events eventually helped develop an independent streak within Hermione that so far had done her well. Hermione was perfectly fine if she was ever by herself. Regardless, Hermione preferred the company of others if it was available.

"Do you think you two would be together?" Hermione asked.

Lianne shrugged, "Who knows? My parents were childhood friends as well and despite being in different Houses, they still maintained a close friendship during their years here. Oh, get ready, Hermione. It's almost your turn."

As soon as Lianne finished her statement, Professor McGonagall immediately called her name, "Hawthorne, H-Hermione."

Curiously, Hermione noted, the Deputy Headmistress stumbled at her first name. There was also less impact in her tone than when she had called out the previous names. Hermione wouldn't begrudge the older witch for it. After all, Hermione was somewhat difficult to pronounce on account that it wasn't a common name and the Deputy Headmistress was practically shouting out names nonstop since the ceremony began without a bit of rest.

Calmly, Hermione strode towards the tool with as much confidence she could muster. She could feel the eyes of the other students on her back and it was a tad bit unnerving. It felt like they were boring holes into her body with their gaze alone! Nervously, Hermione took a seat on the stool. She briefly glanced at Professor McGonagall whom smiled at her gently gently before placing the raggedy hat atop her head.

"Hmm," whispered a voice within her ear that was obviously the Sorting Hat. "Interesting! Very interesting! Making a second round again I see. Well, shall I place you in the...oh! That wouldn't do at all. While suited, you won't do much in Gryffindor. Perhaps, dangerous as it may be, that you shall be placed in _that_ House..."

Hermione was confused, what in blazes was the hat talking about?

_What do you mean 'second round'? I don't understand! _She thought frantically.

"Oh, don't mind me, dear. You will find out soon enough. Well, since Gryffindor is out, and with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw not being the best of choices, you're better off in SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherins cheered loudly again, having another addition to their House. The raucous noise made of her sorting made her blush. Professor McGonagall removed the Sorting Hat from her head and ushered her to take her seat at the Slytherin long table. She hastened to sit next to Dorian, the young boy grinning from ear to ear as she sat down next to him. The older Slytherins who sat close by smiled or smirked at her, welcoming the young girl into the fold. However, Hermione was unable to bask in the welcome as she heard Professor McGonagall calling out Lianne's name. After all, Hayle was right after Hawthorne.

The long-haired blond strode confidently up to the stool. The hat was barely above her head before it shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"

Hermione turned to Dorian whose face blanched as he heard the result of Lianne's sorting. She felt sorry for him. From what she had seen and told so far, they had been practically inseparable until now. Hermione gently patted her new friend and Housemate on the back, "It'll be alright, Dorian. Lianne said her parents were still good friends even though they were in opposing Houses."

"Yeah," Dorian agreed, though his voice was still morose. "I guess it can't be helped. Lianne had always been scarily smart. I think she sort of expected this to happen."

Hermione nodded, not really knowing what else to say. It wasn't like she had much experience about the subject. As Dorian took his mind off his misery by watching the rest of the Sorting Ceremony, Hermione took the time to question the bewildering words that the Sorting Hat had said. There was something off with everything that thing said and it unnerved her. On top of that, it had placed her in Slytherin of all places. From what she had read, Slytherins were known for their cunning and ambition. Granted, she can be cunning and ambitious, but she wasn't normally described as such. If anything, she felt more suited for Hufflepuff. She admired their loyalty and determined nature and she wanted to emulate it.

Sighing, Hermione knew that she wouldn't get an answer just thinking about it. There was just too little information to make a viable theory. She turned her head and her gaze rested at the High Table where several of the faculty sat. Now that she was no longer standing at the other end of the Great Hall with the unsorted First Years, Hermione was able to look at the staff with more detail. Her eyes first fell on the old man who sat on the golden throne in the center of the table. Immediately, she recognized who the man was. He was none other than Albus Dumbledore, easily one of the most well-known figures in magical society. Considering his long list of achievements and positions, Hermione would have to have been foolish if she didn't know him.

However, curiously enough, Hermione could not bring herself to look at him in awe. While she felt admiration for the old Headmaster, there was something – or rather some_one –_else at the High Table that had caught her attention. Sitting directly across the Slytherin long table from the High Table was a black haired man with the deepest, green eyes she had ever seen. His eyes gazed aloofly at the Slytherin table, scanning them with a brief glance. Hermione knew who he was. He was Harry Potter and from what she had heard from the whisperings at the table, he was also the Potions professor and the Slytherin Head of House. He looked absolutely intimidating with the way he watched everyone. However, when his eyes settled on her, she felt herself drawn to him rather than shying away. But as their eyes made eye contact, it was then that the gates opened and a torrent of memories immediately flooded into her mind.

_As I watched Harry drink the potion and entered to face Quirrel, I immediately regretted not finishing what I said earlier. I was trying to say 'love' Harry..._

_When I was petrified, I was scared. Everything was so dark and cold. I felt I could never leave. But every day, I would hear Harry's soft voice and feel his warm touch against my hand, and I knew that he would be there waiting for me once I'm freed._

_As Harry and I huddled together within the time-turner, I felt Harry's breath tickle my ear. When his arms enveloped themselves around my waist as we traveled back through time, I felt my heart beating rapidly and my heart fluttering wildly. What is this feeling?_

_I watched with a frown as the others coldly stared at Harry in the common room. They were so imbecilic! Harry would never have entered his name into the Goblet of Fire! In fact, Harry wouldn't even have been able to do it anyway! I edged closer to Harry and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me and smiled. I promise you, Harry, I would always be there to support you._

_I don't care if my parents would be angry with me, Harry needed me now more than ever. I rushed through Grimmauld Place and charged into Harry's room. I didn't care if anyone was watching, I went to him and fiercely wrapped my arms around him. I clutched Harry tightly against my body, attempting to convey all I could to him with that single action alone. Right now, nothing else in the world mattered but the well-being and comfort of the boy in front of me. Harry, you have me. You don't have to worry._

_I rushed towards Harry as I saw him fall to the ground on his knees. Next to him, Neville laid sprawled on the floor clutching the bridge of his nose. I'm sorry, Neville, but I can't help but be more concerned for Harry. However, as I moved closer, I suddenly felt a surging pain shot through my chest. From the corner of my eye, I glanced to find a small flame pass through me at the area where my heart beat. My mouth gaped open and I crumpled onto the stone flooring. Was this it? Was I dying? I felt myself short of breath and my world blackening. Before the darkness settled completely around me, I saw Harry cast a spell towards to whomever had attacked me. Good for him. I'm so sorry, Harry. I was too careless and I was too sick with worry to have been more cautious. Please don't blame yourself. _

_I love you Harry. I wish I could have kept our promise..._

Hermione Hawthorne continued to stare at the man as she remembered more and more memories of who she had been before. She loved Harry Potter, the man with the most brilliant green eyes, in her past life. She had been Hermione Granger, a bright and warm girl, and she and Harry were the best friends anyone would be lucky to have. Hermione Granger loved Harry Potter, but she died at age sixteen, killed by a Death Eater.

"Harry," Hermione softly whispered. "I'm back."

* * *

><p><strong>Afterword<strong>: I know I promised that each chapter would take place in one year. However, I thought it would be counter productive if I had one long chapter with unrelated scenes in each one. So I decided to separate each year into three chapters. I don't know how this would affect the story, but I felt that it would be better if I did it this way. Hopefully, you enjoyed this chapter! I hope no one didn't mind with the way I sorted Hermione this time around. Being a muggle-born, she is going to have an interesting challenge being in Slytherin.


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